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Making a "Manifestation" in Turbulent Political Times. Photo by V. Gribayédoff.

Political activists are apparently using an open cab as a rolling platform in order to attract passersby to a rally or demonstration. The open cab was commonly called a "caleche".

Source:
Outing magazine, vol. XLIII no. 3, December, 1903, p. 247.

Vance Thompson's Cab Drivers / 7

The Paris Cabman / 6

Shut off with a green fence, decorated with a green arbor and green tables and chairs, the Père Alfred's garden was about as long as a bachelor's bedroom. There, taking his ease, was Pierre-Marie. Cocotte, peaceable as an ass chewing a thistle, was standing in the road without. A bottle of red wine, a friture of minnow-like fish, went toward the cocher's breakfast.

"'Tis a bad business," said Pierre-Marie, setting down his glass, "and the worst of it is the horses.Ah, ces chevaux – quel misère! I wish I had the patron* in the skin of 'em for a day or two; he'd understand 'em better. He'd learn that way what a horse can do and what it can't do.Bon Dieu de bon Sang!" said Pierre-Marie and set down his glass. "Well, they give us three horses. One for the day" – he counted it on his thumb – "one for the evening and night" – he nicked that one off on his forefinger – "and one that is supposed to be resting for the next day. Three – 'tis not so bad – if they were worth anything. But are they worth anything? Bah!" said Pierre-Marie and set down his glass. Père Alfred brought him chops and green peas and a salad, cheese and two peaches.

"The day begins at six o'clock. 'Tis then I get my first horse and pay my day – eighteen francs, at present; sometimes the rate is higher, sometimes lower; if it rains the patron* puts up the price; if there is a fête day he puts it up – for the day of the Grand Prix we paid thirty francs this year. So we go out at six in the morning, Cocotte and I. And we do what we can. Here a bourgeois and there a bourgeois and so the day goes. At noon I feed Cocotte. If I didn't pay for it out of my own pocket she'd go hungry. At seven o'clock in the evening at the latest, she must be back in the stables, which may be miles away from the last trip I've made.Ben v'la! Out we go again – I and the second horse – and we work until two o'clock in the morning. After this time we have to pay fortysous* an hour, extra money, to the patron.Un sâle métier*," said Pierre-Marie and set down his glass.